Survival of the Fittest?
by YaoiQueen7-4
Summary: Sorry about the crappy title! I wrote this for my Creative Writing class, so I decided to post it. I hope I did this justice and made it great! Criticism and reviews would be great! Hope you enjoy! Note: Not a slash!


Survival of the Fittest?

Shit! There's nowhere to turn! He had no other choice: He didn't like heights that much, but what was he to do? They were closing in on him and his only choice was to climb that rusty and loose ladder. He quickly tossed his weapon into the small pack on his back and climbed up that ladder. His feet touched the roof as he let out a brief sigh of relief. Good, they stopped following me. But, it wouldn't hurt to throw a flare.

The sweaty male knelt down and unzipped the pack. He removed the things he didn't need at the moment- canteens of water, medical supplies, pistol ammunition, and different foods- to find the matches and his flares. He pulled out the last match, ran it along the ground until he saw a small spark, and then lit the flare. As soon as the flare was lit, the messy male threw it with a loud grunt. He heard its faint thud, followed by the fading of the groans he grew all too familiar with; He finally let out the breath he unconsciously held. That was way too close.

He put everything back in its rightful place in the pack then zipped it close. With his large and heavy sledgehammer clutched in his blistered hands, he crept towards the edge of the roof. It wasn't like all the other roofs he had seen; it was actually sturdy and held him up and away from the enemy. When he peeked over the edge, he saw nothing near him: Time to abscond. The messy male climbed down the ladder swiftly, almost like a mouse, then ran to the rear fencing from which he entered; Even the little tunnel he dug under the fence was there and hadn't been bothered. He smiled a small smile where his three front teeth showed and slithered under the fence like a snake, ripped his favorite plain blue tee and skin, then ran like crazy with his pack and sledgehammer.

The male ran for what seemed like a million miles, but in actuality, only twelve. He finally stopped to catch his breath at an old, burnt down gas station. Slightly wounded, he dropped his items on the ground and then dropped himself. His chest was tight and his heart throbbed in his throat. He struggled to get air during the first few minutes of stopping, but he managed to stay alive for another day. I might as well write down the events of today.

The young male raised himself off the ground then situated himself into a sitting position. He then reached into the small outer pocket on the pack to pull out an even smaller journal- about six inches by four. He removed the golf pencil from the spiral and turned the pages. Once he found a blank page, his jittery scrawl with looping y's began, "Day thirteen, eighteen thirty hours. I ripped my favorite blue tee again; I think it's time to get rid of it. Besides, I can't seem to scrub out the mud and black-blood stains. They're constant reminders of my sin- of my murder. I've killed a lot of innocent citizens; what else am I supposed to do? I want to survive to see my father come home from his business trip then we can escape together. We can escape to New York, where they've a vaccine that gives persons immunity to this disease. I won't be a mindless infected, which is great! Speaking of my dad, I still haven't seen him: I hope he's alright. Anyway, I better get home before those things see me. I'll check back later. Time out- eighteen thirty-three." The male put the journal back in its returning pocket, picked up the pack ad weapon, and started his journey again. There were thoughts running through his mind, except for the one that managed to squeeze itself in.

I cannot forget that faithful day. It was Friday, April thirteenth- my birthday. Most of the students at the local high school were dressing up as horror villains, so I decided to jump on the bandwagon for once. It took me all week to plan that costume, and I'm so glad I worked so hard.

As I walked- well, rather limped- to school in my zombie costume and my news radio in my pack, I felt an eerie presence- one that I've never had. Regardless of this feeling, I kept walking to my set destination listening to the news sputter out of the radio. I only really paid attention when I heard a series of yells and growls, followed by that spine-tingling noise when you bite into and tear the meat off of a chicken leg.

What the hell was that? I ran unconsciously; I felt my mind blank as I was overwhelmed by fear. I ran toward my set destination and as soon as I saw the school grounds, I stopped dead in my tracks. It was chaotic- everywhere I looked, I saw Freddies and Jasons being chewed as if they were Twinkies: Yet it was much peachier and red- much more red than anything. The worst, it seemed my friends; Rose and Jade were chewed as well. God, they looked so different.

Rose's neat and black shirt and skirt were full of holes and claw marks, which made her clothes very uneven. The skirt- which usually went down to both of her shins- was ripped on a strange angle; the right side of the skirt was up to her thigh, and ripped downwards to that original position on the left shin. Her shirt was in a similar state, but the claw marks matches the squid tentacles on her shirt. And Rose's short, pale blonde hair looked like dirty hay that was dragged in mud, and as if she allowed bloody fingers into her hair to brush through it and fluff it out- and her skin was gray. Gog, her skin was as gray as freshly poured concrete- almost like my costume, but her real skin- with chew marks in her neck and right arm. When she finally opened her mouth to let out a deep and low growl, she saw those dark gray gums filled by those thick yellow teeth.

And Jade, oh Gog, Jade looked like a wreck. Her usual long, black, and wavy hair was ragged, frizzy, and looked as if a small chunk was ripped out. Her skin and mouth were similar to Rose's, except for the position of her chew marks. Jade's chew marks were mostly on her legs, yet there was that similar neck chunk missing as well. The claw marks were not on Jade's stomach as Rose's were because they went across her left eye. The only differences between the two familiar faces were their eyes. While Rose's pink irises became engulfed in a white sea, Jade's green irises were still there and filled with pale blue tears.

"Help me, Egbert," she yelled with pain and howled as he words vanished into growls- she finally became consumed by the disease. When I saw her beautiful green irises disappear in that thick blank sea, I let my fear take over my body again. Run you dumbass! I listened to my mind and ran for it. I didn't care if they followed me either, for I was a few feet ahead of those infected monsters.

As I ran, I could feel their presence getting closer and closer than they were in reality; I knew it was most likely a combination of my fear and paranoia, but I also knew I had to hide from that fact and keep running for home. The minute my feet hit my home's sidewalk, I reared off to the right towards the basement stairs. I ran inside the open door to find my dad's old and rusty sledgehammer.

The growls and groans grew louder as my feet moved themselves, and the rest of my body, backwards to the far left corner. It was dark and hid me well from my enemies. As I hid, I heard the loud familiar growls echo throughout the small underground box. I shivered in fear and slight anticipation. I expected them to get me, but instead, I got them. As soon as they spotted me, my brain ran at them and swung the sledgehammer right into their temples. Unfortunately, the hit didn't kill them- just caused them to fall over. Do it, Egbert.

As tears began to gather in my eyes, I gripped the long, rusty handle of the hammer in my hands and walked over to those infected monsters. Memories of our great times started to replay in my head. Come on, John!

"I'm sorry," I whispered as my tears fell and my hands were thrown above my head, the weapon in my hand, "but you're no longer my friends." With a loud grunt, I threw the head of the hammer down to meet the infected's. With that splat that still haunts me, I killed Rose and Jade then fell to my knees with a wet face. As the memories kept playing in my head, the river kept flowing. Through my tears, I managed to whisper,

"I'm sorry, Jade and Rose, but I know you'll find a better place to be than here."

The male finally reached the home he grew up in. It pained him to see the white house slowly turn a pale gray as he grew older, but he was glad it was still used unlike all the other houses he saw abandoned and slowly crumbling into rock piles. As he walked up the front stairs, a sad smiled made its way onto his face when he saw the sign he made for his dad back in second grade saying "Home of John and daddy Egbert:" It had some backwards letters which reminded the male of his constant murder and sins. When did I lose this side? After a few moments of blankly staring at the old and rickety sign, the muddy male shook his head quickly then focused back on hiding.

He opened the door slowly quickly entered the fairly-sized home, then locked the six different locks he installed himself. As this man, John, walked through the house, he noted that everything was physically fine, but then again, he felt that familiar eerie presence creeping up on him. I guess I should check the basement now.

The plain white door leading downwards was opened quickly then stopped with a muddy shoe. Down the stairs he crept with the weapon clutched in his blistered hands, keeping light on his toes; when he heard no growls or groans, he sighed a breath of relief. Good, no signs of life in my basement. Now, for some light. The male tapped his hand along the dark wall until he found the light, which he flicked on.

When the light was shining throughout the whole basement, the short and messy looking male yelled at what he saw. "Who the hell are you?!," John stuttered. In the corner, the same one John hid in not-so-long-ago; there was now a chair with a blonde sitting in it. He had shades on, so John couldn't really see the male's eyes, and he looked rather tal, for his legs were long. The long legs covered by jeans, kicked the box out from under his feet then stood up.

"Strider; Dave Strider." The words that slipped out of this male's mouth sounded quite smooth- almost like silk- and relaxed. John looked at this male with a raised eyebrow as he placed his bloody sledgehammer against the doorframe.

"So, why are you- No, let me rephrase that," John rambled, then took a deep breath, "How did you get in here?"

"You kind of left your door wide open. I mean, what kind of idiot does that?" John's eyes widened at every word Dave said. His mind played the possible outcomes to John over and over again; What if an infected did sneak in and managed to remain silent? What if someone else came in and wasn't so nice to just leave my stuff alone? He was very grateful that this time it was a healthy and harmless stranger rather than the one of the outcomes his mind played.

"Well, I am glad you're not an infected," John mumbled as he scratched the back of his head. A small smile played on his lips as he thought of finally having help with getting supplies. And then he thought… "But, I'm not getting you food!" The blonde, who was still standing in the corner, smirked as he threw the red pack- which was hidden behind the back of the chair- forward, replying smoothly,

"Dude, chill out. I brought my own food, water and supplies." Dave then threw the backpack forward, which John, again, raised an eyebrow at. Dave noticed and shrugged his shoulders swiftly. "Look through it if you don't believe me."

After a few moment of staring at the bright red pack, the messy boy stepped forward, snatched up the pack, and rummaged through it. Hmm, so Strider isn't lying. In the bag, John found about fifty chocolate granola bars, a large bottle- possibly a jug- of water, and a few hunting knives; He also noted that Dave currently had a large sword in one of his hands. I guess he is equipped. After zipping the pack back up, John returned the pack to Dave.

"So, do you believe me now?," the shaded visitor asked as he put the pack on his back. John nodded as he walked over to the blonde, wanting to sit down off of his aching legs. Dave took note of this and moved over a little to make move for John, then spoke, "Well, does that mean I can join you?" John sat down on the half of the seat he was given and thought things over: Well, he does have his food and supplies. And, I guess I can kind of do an exchange with him: You help me with gathering supplies and I'll provide you with shelter? Yeah, I guess that co- But then, every thought that came into John's head disappeared when he heard a deep, low growl outside of the house. They've found me.

The dark-haired male got up off the half-of-his-ass he was sitting on, walked over to the doorframe and grabbed his sledgehammer. Once both of the blistering, red hands were gripping that rusty handle, John looked at the blonde in corner.

"Alright," John nodded to Dave then smirked himself, "Let's go."

The two males ran up the other basement staircase leading to the outside world. They took note of the slow yet harsh breeze blowing that carried the thick smell of death of decay- fresh. "Let's split up," Dave suggested in a smooth whisper. John nodded to the blonde in reply, watched Dave walk to the right then took the left.

As John walked, the groans and growls grew louder and louder with each step he took; around the corner, John found the shock of his life- for right in front of him stood a tall, dark gray male dressed in a bright white suit covered in thick, red bloodstains. Dad?! John's knees buckled at the sight in front of him and tears began to enter his eyes once again. No, this can't be happening! John dropped his face to hide the tears that finally fell along with a series of soft sobs. "We were supposed to survive," the young male whimpered as he slowly lifted his head back up to look at the eyes of the beast- pure white, "You promised, you jackass!"

The blonde stopped dead in his tracks on the opposite side of the house then sighed heavily, "I guess the moron found him. I better go help." Dave ran around the house to see the sorrowful family reunion. There, the twp humans surrounded the gray infected; One staring at the back of the creature and one staring into those ironic eyes. The three stood frozen in battle, waiting for someone- or something- to make a move. I can't do this!

As soon as the blonde saw the beast move so much as a centimeter, he gripped his katana tightly and raised it above his head. "Don't touch him!," John yelled to stop Dave midswing. The blonde sheathed his weapon and looked through the beast to the teary-eyed male in front of it.

"You know this thing will kill you, right?," Dave replied with his right eyebrow raised. John simply shook his head and stood up with his weapon. After a few minutes of wiping his eyes dry, the young male replied softly,

"No, _he _won't. _I'll _take care of him." The blonde's only reply was a simple nod as he took a step back. John gathered up all his courage and strength to swing his sledgehammer into the beast's legs, instantly breaking them. The beast yelped as it fell flat onto its face. Time to finish this.

The dark-haired male walked over to the helpless infected on the ground, then swung his weapon. But, something stopped him suddenly. Did I just-? John flipped the infected over with his foot to see that the plain, white eyes he saw earlier had splashes of color and tears in them. "John, please forget me." The words the young male heard were broken by numerous growls and occasional sniffles. As John looked at his father's state, his tears began to fall again with the numerous memories playing in his head.

The sledgehammer fell to the ground with a loud thud, followed by its owner falling on wobbly knees. He scooped up his father's body into his arms and sobbed, "I can't forget about you, dad! I'm not that heartless!" John paused to think about the decision he had set in his mind then tilted his head to the side. "But, I want to become heartless like the way you are, Take me with you, dad." With a response like that, the color of the beast's eyes disappeared in that thick, white sea. The beast then took hold of the slightly-built shoulders of the male he used to know, slammed him into the concrete. The male didn't even flinch; he just closed his eyes and let the beast devour his jugular.

As the beast ripped the flesh from the male's neck, John howled in pain as he felt the infection spreading fast: but not fast enough to stop his message, "Kill us as soon I'm completely gone, Strider." Dave simply nodded and leaned against the house to wait it out. Soon as it was finished, the two beasts rose onto their feet and trudged towards the blonde.

"Too slow," he whispered as he swung his katana through the two gray necks in front of him. Once the heads stopped their rolling, he pierced his weapon into their skulls. As the bodies fell, Dave saw a small journal-like thing stumble out of John's pants pocket. He stared at it for few moments before picking it up and flipping through the passages. Damn, all of these are lame. Better write my own, cool story.

The blonde removed the golf pencil from the spiral and flipped to the next page; then his surprisingly neat and cursive writing began, "John is dead. He hesitated and held onto the past too much. Here's a tip from a cool guy: Never hesitate and never stop to look back. Survive and keep walking forward." Once Dave was finished with his entry, he threw the journal behind him and began walking forward, forgetting all that happened in Maple Valley, Washington.


End file.
